


changes (how we used to be)

by gurj14



Category: Smallville, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, President Lexa Luthor, SuperCorp, Superwoman Clarke, because i am weak for that, best friends to lovers to enemies to whatever comes after an apology, exes with a lot of baggage, lexa in a tux, somewhat angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gurj14/pseuds/gurj14
Summary: Smallville AU started as a play on words for Lexa Luthor and Clarke Kent“To see me?” Clarke caught the eyes of Lexa’s ever-present secretary, acutely aware of the woman’s seething jealousy as they danced. “Your girlfriend okay with that?”“She’s not my,” Lexa grit her teeth. “She’s not my girlfriend.”“Oh? So you didn’t give her the Lexa Luthor treatment? A quickie in the sheets and diamond earrings?”or Clarke is the hero, Lexa is not quite the villain
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Lexa/another woman, mentions of Clarke/ex Finn
Comments: 21
Kudos: 220





	changes (how we used to be)

Lexa sipped her bourbon. It was Christmas, a beautiful white Christmas in the capital… and she was all alone. 

She scoffed, knocking the rest of her bourbon back down her throat. Her feet were kicked up on her desk, her eyes watching the Metropolis news footage of their Christmas tree with  _ Superwoman  _ placing the angel on top of it, bright blue eyes and a beautiful, glistening smile as the crowds cheered her on, dazzled by their hero. 

Lexa turned the TV off, glaring at the screen that taunted her with what she could no longer have. 

Superwoman. 

Once just a girl, a girl Lexa met when her father cast her off to Smallville, of all places. 

Clarke Kent. 

Blonde hair, blue eyes, sweet smile… farmer’s daughter, girl next door type. 

Now a woman. Curves and confidence. And not just any woman, but one that was probably the strongest on this planet. 

“Madam President,” the door opened, and Lexa drunkenly let her glass of bourbon touch the wood with a thunk before standing up. 

“Yes Mercy,” she greeted her secretary, hoping she wasn’t slurring too much. Tonight she had helped herself a little too much. 

Her secretary, Josephine ‘Mercy’ Mercer, had undone some buttons on her own blouse and Lexa knew it would be so  _ easy _ to just lift her onto this desk and have her.

“I just… I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” Mercy stepped forward. “Maybe we can have a drink together?”

Lexa had eyes -- the woman was gorgeous. 

She would never mix business with pleasure, and her heart had been broken enough times that she wasn’t sure she had one anymore. Mercy deserved better than to be used for comfort. She knew the young brunette had  _ feelings  _ for her. Feelings she could not return. And Lexa didn’t do feelings -- not anymore. 

“Thank you, Mercy… Merry Christmas,” Lexa said, smoothing the wrinkles of her once ironed white shirt down. “You should have an early night. You work too hard.”

Mercy looked crestfallen from her dismissal, and left the Oval Office. Lexa poured another bourbon, and then took the secret door to her room. 

The President of the United States had secret service around every corner, and Lexa wished each and everyone of them a quiet ‘merry christmas’ as she passed. She slipped into her bedroom, stepped out for some chilly winter air on her balcony, and paused when Superwoman revealed herself from the shadows as if she'd been waiting for her. 

“Clarke,” she greeted, surprised. Last time they had met, Clarke had told her to ‘go fuck’ herself with a vow to stop Lexa’s campaign for the White House. It had been almost two years since then. 

“Lexa,” Clarke said back, sounding self-righteous as always and not entirely happy to be here, even if being here was her own doing. 

Lexa rolled her eyes, knowing her once best friend and lover well enough, “and what, pray tell, has the oh-so powerful Superwoman come to  _ accuse  _ me of this time?”

“So it’s not you who’s mining kryptonite weaponry?” Clarke’s outfit, the skirt, the boots, the cape… Lexa hated it and everything it stood for. She hated that they were on opposite sides but fighting the same damn war. 

Trust between them had been burned beyond repair at this point. 

“Of  _ course  _ I’m mining kryptonite weaponry,” Lexa easily admitted, “last year that insane Hitler-esque Kryptonian tried to take over our planet.” 

“And I dealt with that!”

“Can you assure me and the entire human population on this planet that there are no other power hungry aliens with powers like yours trying to enslave and conquer us?” Lexa turned on her heel and walked back inside her room, tired of the same argument that broke them up. As if Clarke hadn’t lied to her for years about having powers even when Lexa  _ knew _ , as if she ever thought Lexa was capable of the sins of her father. 

Clarke followed her inside. 

“You can’t assume the worst--”

“Grow up, Clarke!” Lexa whirled on her heel to glare at her, drunk enough to lose her usual patience. “I am what I am -- I  _ protect  _ this world. I look out for humanity.”

“And I don't?” 

The tension was thick and Lexa scoffed, putting her now empty glass down with an angry thunk. She took a deep breath, calming herself before starting to unclasp her expensive watch and place it aside. 

“I believe you want to help people, yes,” Lexa finally answered her. “But regardless of your powers you’re only  _ one  _ being, Clarke… not everyone on earth has your  _ abilities _ . Regardless of what you think, I’m here to help the people of this world who have no powers.”

Clarke scoffed, leaning back against Lexa’s wall. 

Lexa rolled up her sleeves next before walking to the fireplace, eyes observing the flames. “Now why is the almighty Superwoman  _ here  _ and not on every camera spreading hope during Christmas?”

Clarke’s eyes glared at her. 

“I came to wish my best friend Merry Christmas.”

“Your best friend?” Lexa was amused, “me? I believe you told me to rot in hell last time I saw you.” 

“There were nuclear threats on this country!”

“And I negotiated them. We’re at peace. You’re just upset I didn’t need you or your Justice League to do it.” 

“Peace? You’re building weapons of mass destruction!”

“And your noble ideals are naive as ever. There are enemies beyond us and even ones that can hurt  _ you _ . We need backup forces. We need to be prepared for the next war!”

“Fuck you Lexa,” Clarke was closer, much closer. “You’re a monster.” 

Lexa’s withered heart had something left after all, and whatever was there just shattered. 

“We are what we are,” Lexa said firmly back, voice low, soft and broken. “And you’re deluding yourself if you think I’m the enemy… get out, Clarke.” 

Clarke looked like she regretted her words, but faster than Lexa could blink her eyes, she left. 

Furious for the whirlwind of emotions that came from Clarke, Lexa yelled and slammed her fists angrily down on her wooden dresser. Clarke used to think Lexa was a hero herself, used to see past the Luthor name. That was before wars and aliens and their righteous stubborn views. 

Where they went wrong… Lexa knew she had her own part to blame. But so did Clarke, and the fact that Clarke was unwilling to see it or incapable was dissapointing. 

She catches her reflection in the mirror over her dresser, eyes hardening at the bags under her eyes. 

She had made more jobs in this economy than  _ any  _ other president, solved more problems, negotiated international  _ peace _ with countries that were ready to nuke them because they were afraid of  _ Superwoman’s  _ power and Superwoman was accusing  _ her _ as a villain?

Lexa grabbed her phone, too angry to stop herself from her next course of action. 

“Madam President?” Mercy answered after one ring. “Everything all right?”

“If you’re still up for that drink, come to my suite.” Lexa hung up her phone as Mercy said she would there in five minutes. She saw the monster Clarke saw looking back at her, and she hated herself even more. 

A knock was soon on her door, and Lexa gently closed the door behind Mercy’s blushing cheeks. She distracted herself with eyes that wanted her, respected her, appreciated her, and willed Clarke Kent’s accusing blue eyes from her mind. 

//

_ It was the curve of her back, the warmth of the sun, and soft blonde hair like spun silk… Lexa had never felt as happy as she did in that moment.  _

_ “Clarke?” _

_ Clarke scrunched her face and then turned, a shy smile aimed at Lexa as she remembered what they had both done. Holding the duvet to her chest, Clarke sat up.  _

_ “Morning.” _

_ “Good morning,” Lexa was no stranger to sex, but this -- love -- this she was a stranger to. “Can I… get you something to eat? Coffee?” _

_ Clarke shook her head, “no I just… I can’t believe this is real. You and me…” _

_ The smile before her was so bright and hopeful, and Lexa agreed. How had she gone her whole life not knowing this feeling?  _

_ “I know what you mean,” she cupped Clarke’s cheek and leaned forward, sweetly kissing her lips.  _

_ How could Clarke have all of those powers, all of that strength, and yet be so soft and pliable under her lips? _

_ “I love you, Clarke,” Lexa whispered into her neck, aware that Clarke’s super hearing could definitely pick it up.  _

_ Clarke had been her best friend -- the first person in this town to give her a chance outside the Luthor name -- and now they were more than that. Stopping kryptonite infected humans together, saving the world… learning about Clarke’s past.  _

_ It felt natural and perfect. She was in love with her best friend and her best friend loved her back.  _

_ “I love you too,” Clarke responded, pressing her forehead gently to Lexa’s before kissing her again.  _

_ “How do you feel?” Lexa had to ask, knowing it was Clarke’s first time.  _

_ “Happy.” Clarke giggled, twirling a lock of Lexa’s hair. “I’ve never been happier.”  _

//

“Wow,” Mercy giggled, looking around the President’s suite with wonder. “The rumours of how good you are in bed do you no justice, truly.” 

Lexa was sober, now that her anger from Clarke’s visit was fucked out of her system and the aolcohol long gone too. She sat up, dizzy for a brief moment, the hangover starting to kick in. “The kitchen can make you anything you want.”

“Would you like some coffee?” 

There was shuffling behind her, and Lexa tried not to flinch as arms came around her from behind and Mercy nuzzled into her neck. 

Lexa grabbd wandering hands and cleared her throat. “Coffee would be great.” 

Mercy grabbed herself a robe and left the room to call room service, humming under her breath. 

Lexa felt tears burn her eyes from regret and a thousand more complicated emotions, but she blinked them away, grabbing a robe for herself and a cigar from her drawer to cut and smoke. A gift from Anya Wayne, billionaire friend from childhood. Anya thought she had no clue Lexa knew she was Batwoman, using their friendship multiple times to gain intel. 

Lexa knew  _ every  _ single identity of every costume wearing prick in Clarke’s little Justice League, and even the ones not in it. Lincoln Queen, another billionaire childhood friend and the Green Arrow. 

Was the the only billionaire not sulking in the shadows, but putting her real face and money and life on the line every day? And they all judged her for it. 

All of Lexa’s friends had spied on her and  _ used  _ her and Clarke had the audacity to -- Lexa angirlly hurled her cigar across the room. 

Apparently the anger was still there. 

//

//

“Nice dress.” 

Clarke fixed the glasses on her nose, turning around to face the familiar complimentor. 

“Madam President.” 

“Come now,” Lexa reached forward, none of the anger from her Christmas visit with them present at The Daily Planet’s Valentines benefit, “we’re close enough that you can call me Lexa, Clarke. May I have this dance?” 

Clarke looked down at the hand, hesitating. It wouldn’t do well to reject the President of their country a dance at the benefit her own paper was holding. Lexa knew that, knew that she would use the prying eyes of those around them to get Clarke to dance. She waited for the smug smile that usually followed, but to her surprise Lexa asked in a tone Clarke had not heard in years. 

“Please?” 

Lexa asked it in the same way she had asked Clarke to dance at Smallville High’s prom when Clarke’s highschool sweetheart, Finn, broke up with her over her constant ‘disappearing acts’ and ‘lies.’ 

That Lexa Luthor had been her closest friend and confidante, had kissed her for the first time after driving her home and promised to call her in the morning. Had stolen Clarke’s heart and saved her life. 

For the first time in a long time, Clarke saw her best friend’s vulnerable eyes and not the Lexa Luthor who had taken over her father’s company after his mysterious death or experimented on superpowered beings with the government in secret. 

She put her hand in Lexa’s and let herself be guided to the center of the charity event’s dance floor, letting her hands rest on Lexa’s white tuxedo jacket with bittersweet reluctance. 

“You look amazing,” Lexa whispered, hands on her waist. The softness Clarke had not seen in so long had her walls down. Ever since she heard Lexa’s father had fallen from the top floor of his office in suicide, Clarke had known Lexa was the one to push him. It had been the first time her trust was broken by the woman she loved, and not the last. 

“What are you doing?” Clarke asked under her breath, knowing her boss and editor for The Daily Planet, Marcus, was watching them (since LuthorCorp owned their paper). 

“Complimenting your beauty, Clarke,” Lexa answered easily back. “I… I paused the mining of kryptonite… I let Anya and Wayne Industries take over it, too.” 

It’s a peace offering, letting her know one of Clarke’s  _ current  _ best friends and trusted confidantes was in charge of the mineral that could kill her. 

“I know,” Clarke’s demeanour changed, relaxing more, and she even gave a small smile. “I wrote the article on it.” 

“Right. Of course.” Lexa cleared her throat gently, leading them into a small spin away from an exuberantly waltzing couple. 

“Why are you here, Lexa?” Clarke asked her again. 

“To see you,” Lexa replied easily. 

“To see me?” Clarke caught the eyes of Lexa’s ever-present secretary, acutely aware of the woman’s seething jealousy as they danced. “Your girlfriend okay with that?”

“She’s not my,” Lexa grit her teeth. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Oh? So you didn’t give her the Lexa Luthor treatment? A quickie in the sheets and diamond earrings?”

Lexa paused, stopping their swaying, eyes flashing with pain from Clarke’s cutting words. “You really think that?”

Clarke whispered quietly, “ _ think _ that? I know that! Lexa -- after our last fight I was on my way back to apologize for what I said, instead I heard that woman screaming your name all the way from Metropolis. You tell me.” 

“And how often do you use your powers to listen to what I do?” It comes out harsher than she meant and Lexa regrets it instantly. 

Clarke drops her hands from Lexa’s neck and turns on her heel, storming out without caring who sees her snub their President. 

“Madam President,” her secret service head of security walks over to her, snapping her gaze from where Clarke left the room. “Shall we head back to your Metropolis property or will we be taking Air Force One back to the Whitehouse?”

“Neither. Lexa said instead, “Take me to Smallville.” 

//

Smallville was an hour’s commute, from the city. The Luthor mansion was there, empty and kept. Lexa was the last living Luthor. She had made sure of that. 

“I’m going out for a drive,” she told her security. “Keep your distance.” 

She used her motorcycle, driving it up the familiar farm roads. Even in the night it felt nostalgic. The commute from her mansion to Clarke’s farm was usually fifteen minutes, but Lexa made it in a clean seven, heart racing. Her secret service team posted a perimeter -- one could not escape for privacy better than this if they were President. 

Still, she appreciated the illusion of privacy as she removed her helmet and called out, “Clarke!”

She left her helmet on her bike and approached the barn, Clarke’s favourite hangout spot. 

“Clarke?!”

“What?”

Clarke was in front of her, no longer in her gorgeous gown from the benefit same as Lexa was no longer in her tux. Here, they were young again -- Clarke in her flannel pajamas and Lexa in her fine leather. 

“What are you doing here, Lexa?”

“I came here for you,” Lexa declared, this time determined. 

“Yeah well, I was in my apartment in Metropolis--”

“Why do you still listen to me, if you hate me? Why do you fly to yell at me and then get upset that I was with another woman?” 

Clarke froze, looking caught. 

“You Clarke Kent,” Lexa felt those traitourus tears burn her eyes and she let them, “you’re still in love with me. Same way I am still in love with you.” 

Clarke’s lower lip trembled and she ducked her head, guiltily turning away. 

“I have done terrible things, I know that…” Lexa admitted. “But I have never done anything to hurt you. I just want to leave this Earth a better place, Clarke. Can’t you see that? Why don’t you… why do you mistrust everything I do  _ so _ much?”

Lexa knew they had a lot of things to air out. 

“You’re the only woman I have ever or will ever love. Clarke, please. Tell me.” 

“You killed your dad, Lexa,” Clarke voices out loud what had broken them up. Her words sound like she herself doesn’t believe them. “ _ You _ did that.” 

The silence between them is deafening and Lexa had always known Clarke  _ knew _ but to hear it out loud… 

“Yeah I did.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever admitted it to Clarke, and Clarke gasps, tears falling down her eyes. 

“You pushed him,” Clarke whispers. “To what, do better? Have LuthorCorp and power?”

“No!” Lexa reaches for her hand, but Clarke flinches away from her, taking a step back. “Clarke. Please.” 

Lexa drops to her knees. 

“Please just… let me tell you and then you decide what kind of monster you think I am.” 

“Lexa…” Clarke sniffles, knowing Lexa picked out this farm to talk about this the same way she used the dance floor earlier. 

Lexa reached for her hands, gently holding them and confessed. “I know you’re strong -- these hands have more power than anyone. But he knew who you were. He put it together he -- he was going to  _ kill  _ you, Clarke. That night. He called you to meet for the newspaper interview but he had a kryptonite gun.” 

“Wh-what?” Clarke stammered, “you never told me--”

“Because you never asked me!” Lexa reminded her, upset. “I know I am far from what you deserve, I know I am powerless and you have  _ so  _ much power -- you’re brave and I- I’m a coward. You… you can fly, and save lives and do incredible things but there are forces out there that can  _ kill _ you too, Clarke. And I know no one protects you. You protect everyone but no one protects you. I can at least try. He left me no choice. It was him or you and I chose you -- everything I have ever done is me choosing you.” 

Clarke sniffled, dropping to her knees. The earth shook, but Lexa didn’t care. 

“In a moment of weakness I slept with her,” Lexa admitted. “Because she wanted me and she was there and you  _ hurt _ me. But it’s valentines day and no matter how hard I try I can’t stop loving you. You are my best friend and so much more. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry the way things went. I’m sorry I was too stubborn to say this before. But until I die I need you to know I will never stop doing what I think is best for the  _ human _ race. They are my people and now this world faces threats beyond! And --”

And Lexa knew her greatest sin was forgiven as Clarke kissed her. 

**Author's Note:**

> if I added another chapter, what would you like to see?


End file.
